Still is the Frozen Dawn
by Spylace
Summary: They were geniuses, all of them. But only one was allowed to inherit Hyourinmaru.


**Title:** Still is the Frozen Dawn  
><strong>Summary:<strong> They were geniuses, all of them. But only one was allowed to inherit Hyourinmaru.  
><strong>Rating:<strong> K+  
><strong>Pairing:<strong> none  
><strong>Note:<strong> Fun with Zampakuto mythology in Bleach. Supposedly Zampakuto are extensions of the shinigami, kind of like a sub-SUB-consciousness. But then how do people know that Hyourinmaru is the strongest ice-snow type anyway? Did they test him out against Sode no Shirayuki? Maybe the sword spirits persist on a different plane and asauchi are like doorways.

By the way, I have no idea what I just said.

**Character:** Hyourinmaru, Hitsugaya Toushiro, Shiba Kaien, Ichimaru Gin  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> Tite Kubo owns Bleach  
><strong>Warning:<strong> brain-breakage, fairly AU view of the zanpakuto, un-betaed

.

In the beginning was Hyourinmaru.

There were others who came and went, some as strong as he, wiser, witty, intelligent and beautiful. But one by one they left until only he remained, watching over the weak and the young, the sickly and the dying. When these too grew up, died or were abandoned, he clung to sleep unable to choose.

Centuries later, tired of waiting, Hyourinmaru decided to create his own, someone worthy of baring his name. On a frozen plain where the moon hung cradled in the clouds, he flew at its image until ice came to boil trapped inside his breast, perspiring into mist that rolled out from his tongue and clung to his scales.

The boy, darkly haired but eyes like the green depths of the sea, was a genius. But born a noble, he knew not of the harshness of winter, of the meaningless deaths spread at his feet. When Hyourinmaru called him through a blizzard, the boy turned away either uncaring or unable to hear. And thus was born Nejibana, the one who rankled the seas.

The second, he took care to mold him closer to his own nature—as cold and indifferent as ice, opaque like packed snow but ultimately a protector. However, Hyourinmaru had not taken into account the intrigue and the meddling of the shinigami. Soul Society had never meant anything to him other than the chosen home of his kind.

The boy was born in the eye of the storm, pale and frightened, not knowing who or even what to trust. Though he was given great power, he was ordered to parry, to bind his power to another's, a proud dragonet with his wings cut, forced to crawl on his belly beneath the shadow of another. Scarred, the boy repudiated him became Shinsou—the god-killer.

For the longest time Hyourinmaru slumbered in the snow, bitter with disappointment. In his dreams, he saw images of the sun filtered through pale blossoms, the greenery that made no sense on the frozen plain. Through the boy's eyes, he traced the shadows that went deep and heard the laughter of his own reflection who smiled back at him with the grace of a predator who had taken his due.

Everything changed when Shiba Kaien died.

He woke screaming, fresh wounds splintering down his body as he writhed and blew a storm in his awake. Trapped in his world, he could do little more than to thrash at the boundaries and seethe and grieve, lending power to whoever asked it of him and more. Hundreds died in their beds without knowing how or why.

Only Ichimaru Gin and Shinsou guessed at the secret but they couldn't have stopped it. No one could.

Hyourinmaru gathered the broken shards of Nejibana beneath his wings, like a mother who found her eggs smashed and her hatchlings stolen. He held them close and buried them deep inside his coils like he had when they had been first born, the children of his making, a sea-farer and one who never really left the nest. And for the first time since time immemorial, he left his roost to indulge in his sorrows, to seek the reason for his failure time and time again.

Outside, he found men who had died in battle, children who'd succumbed to hunger, women falsely accused, boys tortured and girls suffocated in their tiny beds. He flew on, never stopping, only straying low enough to wet his lips on the icy melt. At last he returned home only it was no longer a home to him, too small and dark compared to the world he had seen outside, the world left to be seen.

He blew on his throne, uncovering it from the crystalline drift and with his breath; he carved out a boy, imperfect in his youth but a genius. He captured the potential in ice and begged pardon for all the mistakes he had made, with Kaien and Gin. With a sigh, the boy took one breath of the frozen air and died.

.

Ichimaru Gin knew Hitsugaya Toushiro and recognized him just as Shiba Kaien had when he saw him at the academy, a genius all of them, nearly a lifetime ago. But the dragon was more present in the boy who was more spirit than shinigami, harsh and beautiful in his immortal youth.

Shinsou shivered in his hilt, the blade itching to bite into the frozen plain. Gin turned away just as he had from Hyourinmaru once. He doesn't regret.

Deep inside his inner world, Hyourinmaru smiled.


End file.
